Katya Borozova and the Lost Tomb

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WZp_nNpYO5U

Katya Borozova and the Forgotten Temple

Part I

The air is stale, so much so that it sits on his tongue. He is somewhere deep, somewhere that hasn’t been touched in a very long time. Though he feels as if it should be wet and dripping, it is instead dusty and dry. Dust floats through the air so thickly that even in the dark he can almost see it, a thin haze over everything.

He is alone, though he feels he shouldn’t be, at least for a moment. Until the whispering begins. It’s that phrase again, over and over, chanted like a prayer. Except this time, it has a source, a direction.

Stumbling through the dark, he makes his way towards the sound, though every fiber of his flesh is screaming to turn around. He must find it, must stop the whispering.

And then, there it is. An object mounted on the wall, molded into the very stone itself. He has no light, so he squints to see just what exactly it is...

~ o ~

A large bump jostled Simon awake. He blinked a little, looking around. Bumping along like this was very disorienting, not to mention the uncanny nature of the entirely flat desert surrounding them for miles in every direction. Still, after a minute, he remembered where he was, and tugging at his collar, remembered the heat.

Simon hated the heat. It wasn’t for any particular reason, he just didn’t like the discomfort that came from being too warm. On the other hand, despite her eastern European heritage, Katya seemed perfectly content with the scalding desert sun. She was practically kicking her feet in excitement from her spot next to him on the back of the buggy.

The last twenty-four hours had not been very pleasant for Simon. It had all started a few weeks ago, when Katya had received a telegram from Professor Angell. “Made great discovery stop,” it read. “Come soon stop Bring the dreamer stop.” Of course, Katya had then read the telegram to him, and only a few days later, two plane tickets had arrived by mail. They were to fly across the Atlantic, landing in Paris, before taking a train onward to Cairo.

What was Simon to do? The tickets were already purchased and he had no good excuses. Besides, the professor had asked for him specifically, so maybe he had some new information about his dreams.

“It will be a fun adventure!” Katya had beamed.

Simon wasn’t, by nature, really the adventurous type. But he supposed he’d just have to put up with it.

He’d never been on an airplane before. Usually it was prohibitively expensive, and so he’d had no idea what to expect. As it turned out, many numerous hours of turbulence in an incredibly uncomfortable seat. Katya somehow slept through more than half of it. At least she was well-rested. Simon didn’t even really remember Paris, he’d been so exhausted. And then he’d woken up a few hours later on the train.

That had given him a small chance to recuperate before they made it to Cairo. They’d checking into their hotel, been picked up by a driver who said in broken English that he’d take them to Angell, and now here they were, boiling alive in the middle of the desert. So far “adventure” wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Katya commented. “Your mouth was a little open, so I was considering seeing how well your gag reflex would work while you were asleep, but you woke up before I could get the chance.”

“I don’t think it would make much difference,” he laughed nervously. Katya was a real doll, but sometimes he couldn’t tell whether the outrageous statements she made were jokes or not.

She scrunched her face in delight at his reaction. “A claim with no basis,” she giggled. “You can’t really say something like that until you try it, yes?”

“I think I’m better off not really knowing.”

“Oh! That reminds me: how’s your sleep been lately?”

Of course, she was referring to his dreams. He hadn’t been lying to her, at least not at first. For a good long while after the whole affair in Loeilham, he’d gotten the best sleep he’d had in ages. Ant yet, the day those plane tickets had arrived, he’d had another restless night. It didn’t seem like these ones were quite as bad. Simon had had no desire to construct a terrible canvas in a deranged stupor. But again, it had been this same dream he’d just had every night since, even if he couldn’t quite remember what it was about.

Simon hadn’t told Katya yet. He didn’t want to worry her. Also, he didn’t want it to seem like all her hard work had gone to waste. And besides, it wasn’t like this one had him creating nightmare art or passing out, so maybe it was just that: a dream. He didn’t want to worry her over nothing. Simon didn’t even know why he was thinking so hard about this. He and Katya were friends of course, but it wasn’t like she had any personal investment in him.

“Uh, as well as sleep can go, I guess,” he shrugged.

Still, investigator at heart that she was, she pressed. “No more dreams?”

He hesitated. He could dodge the question all he liked, but he didn’t want to lie to her. “Well,” he began, but before he had to say anything else, a great stone cliff appeared on the horizon, and the driver informed them that that was their destination.

Luckily for him, Katya was easily distracted. She bombarded the driver with questions, though he confessed he didn’t know much. Only that a new tomb had been discovered way off in the middle of nowhere.

“Very strange,” Katya frowned. “Typically, the Egyptians liked to bury their important dead all in one place…”

Simon, of course had no answer either, but for whatever reason, the thought of tombs was making him shudder.

Eventually, they reached the expedition camp. Several tents were set up around the outside of the entrance, some open and clearly for planning and other such investigating, and some closed off. Simon wondered if some of the archaeologists were sleeping out here.

As soon as he saw them, an older man with a bushy beard waved them over to where he stood hunched over a table. “Ah, Katya my dear!” he beamed, embracing her briefly, before turning to Simon. “And Mr. Dewitt, I had no idea our paths would cross again, especially under such unusual circumstances.” His speech was slightly clipped with minor German affectation.

“I’m surprised you even remember who I am, Professor,” Simon admitted. “The lecture was very large.”

Angell’s grin was surprisingly visible under his graying beard. “Of course I do. You were always in the back doodling, and yet you somehow still managed to participate more than most of the class.”

“You know, I’m embarrassed, but not surprised that was the impression I left.”

“I am truly sorry that I was not present in your time of need,” Angell changed the subject. “But I am so glad you thought of me.”

“And I’m glad you hired Katya. I don’t know where I’d be without her.”

“Probably not in the middle of Egypt.” Katya clearly wanted to get the formalities out of the way and onto the subject of tombs.

“Ah yes, of course. Keeping me on track as always, Katya.” Angell waved them over to the table he’d previously been working at. There was, among many other tools and documents, a large map laid out in its center. “So, to get a lay of the land. The pyramids of Giza are here,” he gestured at the faded paper, “the Valley of the Kings is here. And currently we stand,” he pointed all the way across the map, “somewhere around here.”

“And you said you found a tomb here?” Katya frowned. “And it’s not a pyramid or monument. It’s strange that its not closer to the valley.”

The Professor shook his head. “Not at all. This tomb is much older than that. Older than Giza too, as a matter of fact.”

“That’s… old,” Simon said lamely, trying to add at least something to the conversation.

“But that’s strange,” Katya frowned. “Even before Giza, pharaohs were still being put to rest in step pyramids and such.”

“Ah, but you see, this tomb’s occupant is not a pharaoh.”

“Then who were they?”

Angell pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, looking a little embarrassed. “We’re still not quite sure yet. The hieroglyphics are very antiquated, so translation is slow.”

“Um,” Simon interjected, realizing there might be something he could add. “Before we get too in the weeds, what does all of this have to do with me?”

“That’s right,” Katya nodded vigorously. “You said specifically to bring Simon as well. Why?”

His face brightening, Angell suddenly looked awfully proud of himself. “One month ago, if you’ll recall, was that terrible incident in Loeilham.” Yes, it was quite impossible to forget. “At that time, we were struggling with a very important inscription, one placed very prominently in the entrance chamber. We were sure we had gotten it right, yet it kept coming out as gibberish. And then, after the incident, I received Katya’s letter.”

“I wrote to explain the whole situation, since we used a lot of his research,” Katya explained.

“Astonishingly, she spoke of a phrase you kept muttering in your sleep, my boy,” the Professor turned to him. “And I couldn’t believe my eyes. It matched our gibberish phrase exactly.”

Simon’s blood ran cold. He had been trying to forget them, those words that felt more like claws digging into his brain than enunciated air.

“It felt like serendipity, too much so to ignore,” Angell continued without heed. “I wondered if bringing him here might yield some additional… knowledge, I suppose, about this place.”

“What do you want me to do, exactly?” Simon asked, not a bit incredulously.

He had to think about that one for a second. “Well, I don’t quite know, myself,” Angell admitted. “I figured maybe seeing the tomb might cause you to potentially remember a part of the dream you’d forgotten.”

“You never know,” Katya shrugged.

“I thought, at worst, your knowledge of art might come in handy.”

“And we’ve gotten a wonderful vacation out of it!” Katya’s smile was very broad.

Internally, Simon sighed. Nothing about this trip had been wonderful so far. But now that he was here, what could be the harm?

“So, we can see the tomb now, right?” Katya asked, her eyes aglow.

“Of course, of course!” Angell was nearly as excited as she was. After equipping them both with electric lamps, he led them through the camp. Crates full of excavating tools and other equipment were scattered everywhere, and various persons bustled about, cleaning and examining artifacts or engaging in logistical debates. But past all that emerged from the cliff face a hole; more like a gaping maw. Part of a carved design still remained above the entrance that they’d already chiseled through. Simon shuddered a bit. It felt as if they’d blown wide a door that was never supposed to be opened again. Foreboding was the word he was looking for.

Beyond the precipice, what seemed to him like pure darkness stretched out as if looking to swallow him whole. He didn’t know where the verbose descriptions were coming from; he wasn’t much of a poet. Still, it wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

Onwards they walked, both Katya and Angell seeming oblivious to the oppressive atmosphere. It must’ve been all in his head. He repeated the sentiment over and over as they passed over the threshold.

Inside it was cooler, at least. Much cooler. Any other time Simon would have probably found it comforting. There was enough light from the outside that they didn’t need the lanterns quite yet, but he still blinked furiously as his eyes took a minute to adjust.

For an Egyptian tomb, the antechamber was surprisingly simple. Though some effort had been made to polish the stone that made up the walls and floor, not much else in the way of ornamentation had been attempted. There was another room carved out on both the left and right side, whose purpose Angell explained was unclear, though he noted the presence of some treasures which the archaeology team were currently examining. Right in front of them was the only wall with any sort of decoration.

“You were right,” Katya shivered a bit from the sudden temperature drop, “this must be quite old. It’s too… simple. Also…” she glanced back and forth. “Where is the actual tomb?”

Angell looked a bit embarrassed. “We… don’t actually know yet,” he admitted.

“Then how do you know its even a tomb at all?” Simon asked.

“It’s referred to as such,” Angell gestured them over to the far wall, where several rough rows of hieroglyphics and a few other images were chiseled into the rock. “See? A… very basic translation might be: ‘to all who seek to plunder this tomb, may we meet very soon in the underworld.’ A classic curse upon any who would dare disturb the burial ground. But here:” and now he gestured to the bottom row of text.

He didn’t need to explain it. “That’s my gibberish,” Simon said quietly. He didn’t know why, but the symbols made some sort of… bizarre sense to him.

“That they are,” Angell nodded. “Good eye. I tell you, they were confounding our linguist. He was just about to pull his hair out by the time I received your letter. It really was a stroke of good—”

But it was then that they all jumped a little. Someone was calling Angell from outside, yet even that little thing had caused such a reaction. Clearly, they were all feeling a little tense.

Angell went to see who it was, only to turn back and sigh. “This may take a while. Please, feel free to look around the tomb and the camp. I’ll catch up with you soon.”

Katya wandered over to one of the rooms, but for a minute, Simon stayed near the wall.

Absentmindedly, he ran his hand over the carvings. “Hes osmec,” he muttered. He muttered it a few times. Why did he feel like he was forgetting something? He had to take a step away. Maybe it was the warm weather, or the ancient, dusty air, but his head was beginning to pound.

“Simon, did you see…?” Katya scooted back into the room, only to stop abruptly. Her mouth fell open.

“What…?” Simon asked, and she pointed behind him. He turned, and for a moment, didn’t quite know what he was seeing. There hadn’t been any sound, or even motion, for that matter. Yet right where the wall used to be, there was now an opening, with a whole other chamber inside.

“I didn’t do anything,” Simon said immediately.

Katya glanced back and forth between him and the aperture. Then she sighed, and clicked on her lantern.

“What are you doing?” Simon asked, as she stamped inside. “Shouldn’t we wait for the Professor?”

“He said we could go wherever we liked,” she stated, before whipping back around to glare at him. “You weren’t lying to me earlier, were you?”

“About what?”

“About your dreams.”

He opened his mouth, searching for some excuse, then just sighed. “Yes.”

“Then you’re going to tell me all about it on the way.”

“On the way?” he asked, following behind her.

“On the way down, of course.”

She shined the lantern ahead of them, only to reveal a spiral staircase of sorts, carved into the rock and circling down, around, and out of sight.

It felt to Simon like there was something awful emanating from that abyss, something nauseating and vile. Yet at the same time, that same something was beckoning him, and so he followed after Katya.

It sounded an awful lot like the voice from his dreams.